


Another Face in the Crowd, Another Fish in the Sea

by AsexualArchivist



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Also slightly a coffee shop au on accident whoops, Brief Mention of Vomit, But mostly just some good old fashioned yearning, M/M, Soulmate AU, i may have made an in depth soulmate universe whoops, jon and Martin are so awkward it causes me physical pain, not that in depth but I couldn’t chose one au so I chose All, platonic soulmates too!!, teen rating for drinking and language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsexualArchivist/pseuds/AsexualArchivist
Summary: Jon and Martin, in a world without the entities, are still destined for each other.AKA a soulmate au!
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 26
Kudos: 255
Collections: Cowards Holiday Exchange 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elfgrunge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfgrunge/gifts).



> HEY TAL sorry this is late but happy holidays!! I’m not quite finished with it but I wanted to go ahead and post the first chapter for you (either one or two more chapters, not sure how it’s gonna split up)
> 
> I hope you like it <3

When Jon was thirteen years old, he got his first soulmark.

He was sitting in class, ignoring whatever the teacher was talking about and reading under his desk. He couldn’t remember the book, some poorly-written fantasy novel, but he remembers reading a particularly bad line and wincing, before suddenly his arm began to burn.

He cried out, not because of the pain- though it wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling- but from the shock. His grandmother hadn’t exactly been very forthcoming about the actual reality of soulmarks; the few things he knew about them he had learned about in books, and they tended to romanticize a lot of aspects. And, to be fair, the experience of getting a soulmark was very different for everyone who was lucky enough to have one, almost as different as the forms the marks took.

If he was honest, he expected that it would have happened earlier if it was going to happen at all. He had made his peace with being alone a long time ago.

But a messy, curly scrawl burned into his skin, and the pain all but disappeared as the phrase was completed: “ _Have we met before?_ ”

The teacher smiled warmly at him when she realized what had happened, and sent him to the office to call his grandmother. 

His grandmother hadn’t been able to look at him for a week after. Too much like her son, Jon assumed, or her daughter-in-law. He never dared to ask her, and she never mentioned it.

Of course, the new mark didn’t exactly help with the bullying. Kids would find any reason to hate each other. But Jon liked the way the ink stood out on his dark skin. He traced the loops of the words, wondering who it was that would eventually say them to him. 

***

Jon didn’t meet Georgie until university. 

It was at a party, strangely enough, one of the few parties he was invited to and one of the only he actually attended. A classmate had dragged him along, claiming that he “needed to get out more.” Obviously they were right, but that didn’t stop Jon from standing miserably in a corner for the majority of the evening, clutching a plastic cup of beer like it was a lifeline.

Eventually, he got dragged out to the dancefloor by the same classmate. It went about as well as Jon was expecting: he almost instantly tripped over his own feet and nearly crushed a poor girl dancing with her friends.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

She looked up at him, and her eyes were so deep and dark that Jon forgot what he was saying entirely. 

“Have we met before?” She asked as she grabbed his arm to steady him, not looking put out in the slightest that Jon had nearly knocked her flat. “You look familiar.”

“Oh,” Jon said intelligently. 

“Oh?” She quirked her eyebrow at that.

“I’m- I’m Jonathan Sims,” he said, trying desperately not to stutter, “and I think- you might be my soulmate.”

“Oh,” she said, and showed him the elegant curling script that encircled her wrist.

_Jonathan Sims._

Their relationship moved rather quickly after that. 

And then it was over.

***

His next soulmark didn’t appear until he was twenty-three.

He and Georgie had just broken up. It had been a long time coming, Jon knew; they hadn’t been able to speak to each other without it ending in screaming and tears in almost a month. It didn’t mean it hurt any less, though, so Jon was sitting alone at a pub, nursing his fifth drink of the night and feeling the world gently buzzing around him.

Jon stared at the words looping across his wrist, scowling at them even as he fought back tears. What was the use of having a soulmate if he just ruined that like he ruined everything else? Weren’t soulmates supposed to be forever? Jon felt his eyes burn as he downed the last of his drink and leaned across the bar to ask for another. The bartender gave him a skeptical look, but slid another his way. 

“Might wanna take it easy over there, bud,” he said.

Jon snorted. “D’snt matter. Don’t wanna be me right now.”

The bartender hummed, going back to his other patrons. It was a busy night, after all, and he couldn’t play therapist to every lovesick fuckup who walked in. Jon groaned and laid his head on the bar, ignoring the stickiness of spilt beer. It didn’t matter, anyway. Georgie didn’t want to see him again, she had made that very clear as she screamed and kicked him out, and he was tired, and he was alone, and-

“Hey.”

Jon jerked his head up and spun around. A man was looking back at him with soft, concerned eyes, looking a little alarmed at Jon’s over-dramatic reaction.

“Oh, I- uh, sorry-“

“‘S fine,” Jon slurred, trying his hardest to remain upright as the world swirled around him. “I’m drunk.”

The man laughed softly, though the concerned look didn’t leave his face. “It would seem so.” He gave Jon a small smile. “I’m Martin, by the way,” he said, vaguely holding out a hand and quickly putting it back at his side when it became clear Jon hadn’t noticed it.

He was a beautiful man, Jon thought to himself, and the part of himself that was still sober enough to feel such things might have been embarrassed that he was meeting Jon when he was this far gone.

The part of him that wasn’t sober, which is to say, the majority of him, had no such regret.

“You’re pretty lovely, d’ya know?” He said without thinking, barely noticing the red that rose to Martin’s cheeks. “Very pretty. Pretty man. Pretty like- pretty like Georgie-“ he hiccoughed, fighting back a fresh wave of misery as he remembered again the way she slammed the door in his face.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry, was she-“

“She hates me now,” Jon wailed, swaying dangerously on the barstool. Martin’s hands hovered nearby, and he looked around nervously.

“Um, listen, do you- are you with someone? Not- not like a date, or- I mean, do you have a friend here? Someone to take you home?”

“Nope,” Jon said simply, “No one wants me.” He said it bluntly, because it was true, and there was no use lying to this nice man he had just met. 

“Oh,” Martin replied. He gripped the hem of his shirt, then, twisting it anxiously. Jon took the lapse of conversation as an opportunity to take a hearty sip of his drink, wincing only slightly as it burned down his throat.

“Um, don’t you- don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Martin asked, though not unkindly. His forehead had a worried little furrow in it. It was very cute, Jon’s drunken brain supplied helpfully.

Jon scowled. “I am-“ he hiccoughed- “I am perfectly alright, now if you’ll- if you’ll excuse me, I am going to-“ 

Jon made to get up out of his seat, but was alarmed to find that doing so had a very curious effect on gravity. That is to say, that gravity still applied to him. He tilted sideways, and his head nearly came down right on the corner of the bar, when-

He felt an electric shock through his body. Every neuron, every synapse fired wildly, as if he’d stuck a fork in an electrical outlet, or stood in an empty field during a thunderstorm. He’d never felt anything like it before, and it made his stomach swoop dangerously. 

“Are you alright?”

Martin looked at him, worry stark on his face. His hand was encircled around Jon’s arm, holding him upright. It was then Jon realized that the electric feeling had started at exactly the same spot Martin was currently holding. 

“Oh,” Jon said, and promptly vomited on Martin’s shoes.

It was a bit of a blur after that; Jon remembers getting shuffled out of the bar, apologizing profusely the whole time, still held half upright by Martin. The bartender must have made some fuss about the mess, but Jon for the life of him couldn’t remember a word. The next thing he recalled was being jostled awake on the tube by Martin, who gently whispered that this was Jon’s stop.

“How did… how did you know where…”

He laughed. “You told me. Don’t you remember?”

Jon did not, in fact, remember, so he chose to keep his mouth shut and let the man almost carry him from the seat and out the door.

“Do you think you can make it back on your own?” Martin asked, giving Jon a worried onceover.

Jon stared at him blankly as the doors closed behind them.

Martin laughed, then, and Jon’s drunk brain decided that it sounded like sunrise.

“I suppose that was a stupid question. Come on, let’s get you back home.”

Jon followed obediently, showing Martin the way to his flat as Martin made sure he didn’t fall over his own feet. Martin chatted idly the whole time, but hell if Jon could remember what he talked about. His voice was nice, he thought stupidly, letting the words wash over him until, finally, they were stood in front of the door to his flat.

Jon fumbled with his keys a few times before finally managing to unlock the door. He stumbled inside. Martin stood at the doorstep, looking worried.

“Are you going to be alright, Jon?”

Jon frowned. “How do you know my name?”

Martin laughed again, and it sounded so pretty that he almost didn’t mind being the butt of the joke. “You really are far gone, aren’t you? You told me on the tube.”

Jon nodded to himself. “Right, that’s… right. Hm.”

“Now, drink some water before you go to sleep,” Martin said. “And make sure to have some painkillers on hand in the morning. I’ve got a feeling tomorrow won’t be pleasant for you.” He chuckled, then his face grew serious for a moment. “Take care of yourself, yeah? Whoever’s memory you were trying to drink away… they’re not worth hurting yourself over. Not to- not to overstep or anything! It’s just…” Martin fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Jon tried not to find it endearing. “It’s dangerous out there, Jon, and you’re all by yourself… I don’t want anyone… taking advantage of you, or anything”

“It’s alright, Martin. Thank you, truly, for making sure I got back alright.” Jon spoke without thinking, letting genuine gratitude melt into his words. Christ, he must have really been drunk if he was being this earnest with a stranger. “Oh, and also, I’m sorry for- um. Ruining your shoes.”

Martin laughed one last time, and this time it really took Jon’s breath away. It was deep, and genuine, and exactly the type of laugh that a man as kind as Martin should have. 

“It’s alright, they can be cleaned. Goodnight, Jon. Don’t forget to lock up,” he said, then carefully closed the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Jon stumbled to the bathroom. After throwing up one more time for good measure, he stripped off his shirt and looked in the mirror, desperately hoping that what he thought had happened had all been in his head after all.

But around his upper arm was a black handprint, the same shape as Martin’s soft hand. 

A soulmark. And from the reaction Jon had had when Martin touched him, that electric shock… a pretty powerful soulmark.

Jon slid down the wall to sit on the bathroom floor and closed his eyes. “Shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place a few years later. Yes I might have also made this a coffee shop au a little bit I’m gay ok what do you expect.
> 
> Also Jon and Martin are the two most awkward men alive and that’s valid of them.
> 
> (ALSO also Jon uses a cane bc it’s a good head canon alright)

Martin Blackwood had a vague sort of mantra he repeated to himself on days when the patrons at his little tea shop made him feel far too alone in the world:

Not everyone had a soulmate, and that was okay! God, most people didn’t have soulmarks at all, and they still found partners. Some of the happiest marriages Martin had seen had been between two people who didn’t have soulmarks. Of course Martin didn’t think those people should be alone! That’s not how soulmates worked, everyone knew that. And soulmates didn’t even have to be romantic! Martin knew that, of course he knew that, and he knew that the fact that he didn’t have a soulmark didn’t mean he’d be alone forever, or would never find love, or anything like that… 

But… 

Martin was certain he had a soulmate, sure down to his bones. He knew there was a man he was destined to be with. He knew it wasn’t exactly a healthy belief, but he just couldn’t shake it. Martin had a soulmate, he was absolutely certain. 

He made the mistake of telling his mom this theory once, when he was younger and didn’t understand the scar tissue that stretched across her her shoulder and up to her neck.

Soulmates aren’t always forever, he soon realized. And losing one hurt, especially when they didn’t care about the scars they left.

His father taught him that when he left, before Martin was old enough to even remember his face.

Still, Martin was sure he had a soulmate. Some soulmarks weren’t physical, and there were studies coming out every day with new discoveries about mental soulmarks. And soulmarks can happen at any age! Martin once read an article about two eighty-year-old women who developed new soulmarks after meeting in a nursing home.

Martin… did a lot of research about soulmates.

If he was being entirely honest with himself, that was part of the reason he opened his little shop to begin with. Certain studies had shown that waitstaff, especially baristas, were some of the professions most likely to meet their soulmate. Obviously that wasn’t the whole reason; he loved making tea, and the thought of owning his own little tea shop made his heart sing. But it certainly didn’t hurt that he would meet so many different people daily. Besides, it was a more attainable dream than writing mediocre poetry for a living. 

He hadn’t met his soulmate so far, but Martin remained optimistic.

Martin hummed to himself made his rounds about the shop, collecting mismatched cups and mugs patrons had left on the tables. He felt a little silly being so hung up about the soulmate thing, especially since he was living his childhood dream in the present. He truly was lucky, he reminded himself, and his life was perfectly lovely as it was. He chatted a bit with some customers just finishing up their breakfast, and moved to return the dishes to the sink to be washed.

But when he turned, he saw-

_Jon._

He looked altogether more presentable than the last time Martin had seen him; he was in a crisp white dress shirt that stood out nicely against his dark skin, and sensible slacks that were very unlike the crumpled clothes he had last seen him in. He carried a cane in his left hand, a nice one, too, made of polished wood. His face was drawn into a tight little frown that Martin couldn’t help but find endearing.

Martin had thought Jon was quite beautiful even after the mayhem at the pub that night. Seeing him like this… it was almost too much for him.

“Jon-“

Martin did not know what he was going to say- considering his past experiences, something awkward and uncomfortable, no doubt, or something stupid. He didn’t have a chance to find out, though, because Jon, who apparently hadn’t heard, rammed right into him. Cups and spoons and saucers clattered to the ground, along with a very frazzled Martin and a slightly confused Jon.

“Oh.” Jon said from his spot on the ground. “It’s you.”

***

The Saucer and Spoon wasn’t a very impressive shop, which was exactly what Georgie liked about it, as she had told Jon the week before. It was cosy, she said, homey, and as Jon entered he felt inclined to agree; the mismatched tables and chairs looked warm and well-loved, and there was a small bookshelf in the corner with a variety of paperbacks tossed on it haphazardly. There was also a wide selection of tea accoutrements in displays around the shop, spoons and mugs and cups and all manner of cute little knick knacks decorated with tea puns. Jon glanced around the place as he walked up to the counter, scrunching his nose as he looked at the menu. He really didn’t know shit about tea, as Georgie was so quick to remind him. She was the only reason he was going to this place, after all, due to her glowing review of both the tea and the atmosphere.

Georgie had convinced him to stop by on his way to his new job at the Institute, seeing as it was so close by. And Jon did need a little something to pick him up today; his leg was acting up again, and he had had to use his cane for the first time in awhile. 

“Come on, Jon, when was the last time you did anything nice for yourself?” She had sighed, then fixed him with a mischievous smile. “Not to mention there’s a man who works there who’s totally your type,” Georige had said, giving Jon a wink.

Jon sighed to himself. He wasn’t looking for a relationship right now, and Georige knew that. In fact, she was the only one who knew about Jon’s soulmate… situation. But as much as Georgie teased, he knew she was just trying to look out for him, to avoid having his heart broken by some stranger he’d never see again. A little late, perhaps, but Jon did appreciate the effort. He was lucky he still had one soulmate on his side.

He was so deep in thought that he did not see the server ducking in front of him on his way to the kitchen, and then next thing he knew-

He was on the floor, his leg aching, among a shattered mug and various silverware. 

Jon whipped his head up, absolutely fuming with anger. Whatever idiot server who had just knocked him over was going to get an earful, that was for sure.

But as soon as he looked up, he saw-

 _Oh my god_ , his mind supplied unhelpfully.

“Oh. It’s you,” Jon said, words leaving his mouth before his brain had a chance to catch up.

Martin looked back at him with his soft eyes and his kind face and Jon felt just as warm as he had the first time he had seen that face. Martin offered Jon a hand, and he took it sheepishly.

“Are you alright?” Martin asked.

Jon just stared for a moment, before remembering that he should probably say something in response. “Y- yes, I’m so sorry about running into you like that, I wasn’t paying attention-“

Martin smiled, and Jon was happy to see that it was just as bright and warm as he remembered it being. “It’s alright, Jon.”

 _He remembers me_ , Jon thought stupidly. He tried to tamp down the wild joy that rose up with that thought.

“Martin- Christ, it’s been- I thought I’d never see you again,” Jon blurted out. He winced; he sounded like a lovelorn fool.

Martin blushed. “Oh, um- well… welcome to my cafe, then. I’m here nearly every day.”

“Good! Good, yes, ah… good that I stopped in, then, I suppose.” Jon nodded to himself. “I’m- glad I found you again. Sorry, again, about that night-“

Martin just laughed. “God, Jon, that was years ago. It’s alright, I promise.”

Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m messing this up all over again. Just-“ an idea occurred to him, then.. “Let me- let me make it up to you? Um, would you… would you like to get… coffee… sometime?”

Martin blinked. Then blinked again. Then laughed, and laughed, until most of the cafe was looking at them strangely. 

“Did you just ask me out? For coffee? In my own tea shop?” Martin giggled one last time, wiping at his eyes as he caught his breath.

Jon huffed, fixing Martin with what he thought was his most withering scowl. It just made Martin start laughing again, even harder than before.

“Alright, alright, enough. You pick the place, then,” Jon snapped. He fumbled in his bag for a piece of paper and a pen, and furiously scrawled down his number before slapping it into Martin’s hand.

Martin stopped laughing, then. His face was faintly red, and Jon felt his own flush as well as he realized what he’d just done.

“Right, well-“ he stammered, stumbling backwards, nearly losing his balance. “I’ll- I’ll be seeing you, then?”

He was halfway to the door before Martin spoke.

“I’m- I’m free Friday?” Jon looked back, and Martin was looking at him with his kind eyes and soft smile. “I’ll text you?”

Jon couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Abruptly, Jon realized that now the entire shop was looking at them, and coughed into his arm.

“Well-“ he said, searching blindly for something to say, and upon finding nothing, swiftly turned and walked out the door.

As Jon left, the door jingling softly on his way out, he realized three things:

One, he hadn’t actually even gotten to the counter to order, much less try any of the actual tea. Undoubtedly he would have to come back again and make a fool out of himself a second time. Maybe break another mug; he winced as he realized he hadn’t actually offered to pay for it, as was his intent, but there was no way in hell he was going back now.

Two, Martin was just as beautiful and kind as he remembered from that hazy night years and years ago. After Georgie, it had been hard for Jon to trust the force of the universe with choosing his soulmates. But over the years, he and Georgie made up and grew closer, until Georgie became his best friend and most trusted confidant. And it had taken years, but eventually Jon, even as stubborn as he was, had to admit that his soulmark had been correct about Georgie, just not in the way he had anticipated. So his soulmark was probably right about Martin, too. But meeting him again, the electric thrill that shot down Jon’s spine at the sight of him in his worn jumper and faded brown slacks… 

Jon was a goner, that much was for sure, and he didn’t need his soulmark’s reminder of Martin’s soft hand to know that.

And three-

Georgie would absolutely never let him live this down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next time: date night


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK ENTIRELY TOO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY
> 
> Things just keep happening and I kept adding on and on and on...
> 
> This ended up being sorta very ooc bc there’s no way in hell Jon would ever admit his emotions to anyone but I simply do not have the time, talent, or energy that a seven chapter build up would require
> 
> Anyway it’s lotsa fluff pls enjoy I love you all very much

Martin hadn’t stopped internally screaming for three days. Jonathan Sims, one of the most attractive men he’d ever met, and one that he was one hundred percent certain he would never see again in his life, had simply stumbled into the _Saucer and Spoon_ , handed Martin his number, and stumbled back out.

That was Monday. Martin spent most of the rest of that day in a daze, trying to figure out what had just happened. 

With Tuesday came the panic.

“Oh, god, Sasha, I just- looked at him while he rambled, I didn’t know what to say, and then he gave me his number and the whole place was staring right at me and when he left they all gave me these- these knowing smiles, but it wasn’t- wasn’t like that, was it? Like- it’s not like we’re going on a- a _date_ or anything-”

“If you think this isn’t a date, you’re not just being stupid, you’re being willfully obtuse,” Sasha responded, deadpan.

Martin’s face grew redder than it already was, which was an absolute medical marvel. “But, we- we just met, basically, and- look, Sasha, you have a soulmark! Dating isn’t the same for you!”

“Hey, you know how complicated it was with me and Rosie!” She answered, giving Martin a Look with a capital “L”. “And soulmarks aren’t the end-all be-all, Martin, as you’ve told me many, many, many-”

“Alright, I get it-”

“ _Many_ times.” Sasha leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. “Look, I know you’re caught up about the soulmark thing, about your soulmate being out there, and… I get it, I really do. I remember being ten and seeing classmates get names and colors on their skin, and hearing people talk about how their souls had connected with another person’s so strongly it created a physical mark. I wanted that. Desperately. But in the end, I realized it didn’t matter, that either I would find somebody or I wouldn’t and that the universe didn’t get to decide that for me.”

Martin sighed. He had gotten this talk before, but he needed it again. Sometimes he got a bit caught up in the magic of it all.

“But my point, Martin, my point,” Sasha said, voice suddenly going loud and teasing, “is that you should ask this man on what is undoubtedly a date. And if you so desire, many dates. And the universe can stuff it, frankly.”

Martin grinned at her. “You always do know what to say, don’t you?”

Sasha smiled, broad and bright. “Yep. I’m a genius, thank you. Now let’s get Tim over here for some Mario Kart and first date advice.”

“Yeah, sounds g- wait, what? Dating advice? From _Tim?_ Sasha-“

“Nope! I can’t hear you. This is happening.” She sprung up from the couch and sprinted to her room as fast as she could, and Martin heard her loudly talking on the phone to Tim. He distinctly heard the words “disastrous consequences” and “romance expert” uttered, though, and groaned into his hands.

This was going to be a long, long day.

***

Wednesday and Thursday passed in a blur. Martin texted Jon under Tim and Sasha’s careful guidance.

Martin had tentatively suggested going to a cat cafe, since he had been desperate to go since one had opened close to his flat. To his surprise, Jon seemed absolutely ecstatic about the idea. Which is to say, he responded with a text that read _“That sounds lovely!”_ It was the first time he had ended a sentence with anything other than a period. Martin was more than a little embarrassed that a single exclamation point could send his heart fluttering.

Needless to say, Martin didn’t sleep much Thursday night.

When Friday came, Martin was a bit of a wreck; he’d screwed up three orders in a row before Tim laughed and told him to go on home, since his head clearly wasn’t on straight.

“Go get ready for your hot date, boss,” he said, far too loudly. Martin shushed him.

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you these things,” Martin sighed. “And don’t call me ‘boss’. It’s… weird.” Tim just grinned at him as he shoved Martin out the door. Martin let it happen; Tim was right, even if he was less than discrete. 

“Fine, fine! I’m going,” he finally laughed, and let the door swing closed behind him. 

Now that Martin didn’t have work to distract him, his mind was whirling with anxiety. He barely remembered getting home past the worry clouding his vision; the next thing he remembered he was unlocking his flat and flopping onto the bed. 

Despite how overbearing Sasha had been the past couple days, Martin was grateful that she had helped him prepare for the date beforehand, because he sure as hell wouldn’t get anything done when he was this nervous, especially considering his previous track record of disastrous first dates.

To be fair, Martin hadn’t been on a date in years. Since- since he met Jon, actually; that night was his last attempt at online dating. He got stood up, of course; Martin wasn’t terribly surprised that some internet stranger hadn’t deemed him worth his time. It happened; Martin was used to it. He just bought a drink for himself and decided to make the best of it, as he often tried to do.

Then, he’d seen Jon.

As much as Martin believed in soulmates, the whole “love at first sight” thing had always seemed a bit silly. All those people giving their partners loving glances and saying that the moment you see your soulmate, you’ll simply know… It had always rung incredibly shallow to Martin. Sure, soulmates were a thing, but you still had to work at a relationship, it didn’t just happen by magic. The soulmark didn’t mean that everything would always work out. His father was proof of that. 

But when Martin saw Jon, he understood, at least a little, what people meant. His heart felt full in an almost uncomfortable way, and he couldn’t fight the sudden urge to walk to his side, sit down next to him, strike up a conversation, make sure he got home in one piece. It was strange, that Martin had instantly become so infatuated with a stranger. He wasn’t usually the type to be caught up in good looks. But it wasn’t just how handsome Jon was, it was… deeper than that. There was something there, connecting them, tying them together, Martin could _feel_ it. 

Or, perhaps Martin was simply fooling himself, like he always was. After all, he’d seen the words painted on Jon’s skin: a soulmark, and from the phrasing, it seemed to be his partner’s first words to him. Jon already had a soulmate, and it wasn’t him.

Still, Martin reminded himself- quite desperately, if he was honest- some people had more than one soulmate. There was still a chance. But that chance was so slim that Martin was simply hurting himself in the long run by holding out hope.

He was glad he would get to see Jon again, though. Truth be told, Martin had thought about him rather a lot since that night. Even if Jon couldn’t reciprocate his feelings, it was nice to know he’d remembered him and actually wanted to see him again.

Martin tried his best to push down his anxiety and get dressed. He was ready far too early, and spent nearly an hour sitting on his couch, leg bouncing up and down anxiously.

He ended up getting there early, to continue his worrying there. He was glad for the cats, though; he buried his fingers into the fur of a friendly grey cat, whose collar told him her name was Bella. She purred loudly, and Martin obliged her by scratching her behind the ears. By the time the bell above the door jingled, Martin had almost forgotten to be nervous.

Almost.

Jon stumbled into the cafe, startling several kittens as he glanced around. Christ, he was beautiful, even with his hair disheveled and his coat nearly hanging off one shoulder. He looked around for a moment, appearing almost panicked, before his eyes landed on Martin. He smiled.

“Martin!” He sat down across from him, nearly scaring off Bella in the process. Martin shot him a dirty look.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I got caught up in work, I’ve just started a new job over at the Magnus Institute and I completely lost track of time-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” Martin said, smiling, even as he felt a painful twinge in his chest. Had Jon forgotten they were meeting? Even Martin had to admit that was a pretty bad start to a first date.

_Not a date,_ Martin reminded himself. _Just a… friendly get together. Between friends who literally don’t know each other at all._

Bella smooshed her face against Martin’s hand.

_... in a cat cafe. Right._ Martin was starting to feel more than a little stupid about both his choice in men and his choice of location.

“So… what do you do for the Institute?” He asked awkwardly.

Surprisingly to Martin, Jon’s entire face lit up. “Oh, we do a lot of research into the supernatural, the esoteric, the unexplained… I’ve only just started there as a researcher, so I’ve mostly just been getting the feel of the place. But I’m hoping to get to the actual academic bit sooner rather than later. It’s been a bit… boring.”

Martin smirked. “How boring could it be, if you forgot about our-“ he choked on the word “date,” and instead settled for “-meeting?”

Jon’s face grew red. “I did not forget about- I was simply… I was doing a bit of... personal research.”

“What about?”

Jon’s blush spread. “Well, I… it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Martin reassured. 

“Well, about… soulmarks.”

Martin didn’t reply for a moment, too busy trying desperately to push down the fluttering in his chest. Jon seemed to take his silence as a confirmation of his fear, though, and quickly looked away.

“I told you it was stupid, it’s simply something I’ve been curious about lately. That’s all.”

“No, I understand,” Martin said quickly. “I’ve often wondered about it, scoured the web for information.” He gave Bella a scritch beneath her chin, and she purred loudly in contentment. “I’m sure the Institute has a lot more to work with, though.”

Jon nodded vigorously, and the shine in his eyes was back again. Martin simply sat back and watched him this time; he was beautiful like this, hands wildly gesticulating as he dove into the history of the soulmark, the science of soulmates and the veritable wealth of information that was still a mystery to scientists and philosophers alike. Martin had heard some of it before, but the way Jon told it, it was a story, like history was coming alive before his eyes. He was a little sad when Jon trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Sorry, I can get a bit… much. Georgie says my lung capacity could rival an Olympic swimmer, seeing as I never so much as stop to breathe when I get off on a tangent.” Jon smiled when he mentioned Georgie. Martin tried not to show how his own heart sank.

“Georgie… is she, um…” Martin gestured vaguely. Even he wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to convey.

“Georgie? Oh, she’s my soulmate. Known her since uni.” Jon smiled off into the distance, no doubt reliving fond memories of he and Georgie back in university. Martin tried not to let himself frown too deeply.

“Oh, that’s- that’s great,” he said, in a tone of voice that revealed just how great he thought that was, and petted Bella just a little harder than he had meant to. Jon seemed oblivious, though.

“Yes, she’s been good to me. I’m not usually the most pleasant to be around.”

Martin simply nodded, and made a noncommittal “hmm” noise. 

“Actually, Martin, that reminds me… before we go any further with, um… this…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

Martin sighed. So here it was, what he’d been dreading. What was the point of Jon asking him out- on a- a meeting, that is- if he was just going to reject him? 

And that had to be what this was, right, why Jon had even called him here in the first place? Just to let him down gently, since it was obvious even to Jon that he was in love with him?

“I know,” he replied. Best get this over with quickly.

Jon looked up at him with wide eyes. “You do? How- I didn’t think you- well, I suppose I never asked-”

Martin cut off his rambling. “I apologize for that night. I was too forward, and I could see you had a soulmate, what with the… the mark, and everything. I don’t want to come between you.” Martin didn’t look at Jon, just looked at the cat purring in his lap. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” When Jon didn’t respond for a long moment, Martin allowed himself to look up.

Jon looked… confused.

“I don’t think I understand.” Jon cocked his head to the side; it was annoyingly adorable.

“I assumed that’s… what you wanted to talk about? That you’re… accounted for?” Was Jon really going to make him explain it? “I mean, I’m not the most subtle, I know I was probably a bit too… much, that night.” 

That had to be it, right? Martin had been too interested, and it had put Jon off a bit, maybe made things awkward with him and his soulmate? Or- oh, god, did Jon’s soulmate think he was cheating on them, because of Martin? Did he terribly ruin their relationship, and now Jon wanted to give him a piece of his mind for it? Or had he-

“That’s… not what I wanted to say.” Jon interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “Did you really think I asked you here to… scold you, or something like that? Did it not cross your mind that I might just want to talk to the kind man who made sure I got home safely, and made me feel better after a very, very bad night?”

Martin’s face flushed. Perhaps all that time to himself before their date hadn’t been good for his anxious mind. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“I just wanted to talk, Martin, because… well, to be honest, you made quite an impression on me that night.”

A little thrill went through Martin at that. He quickly tried to push it back down.

“Well, I admit I’ve- thought about you a lot, Jon.”

Martin took satisfaction in the dark red that started to spread on Jon’s face.

“In that case… I have something I’d better show you, Martin.”

Now it was Martin’s turn to look confused. “... what?”

Jon gave him a small, nervous smile. “It’s… well, it’s something I’ve- I’ve known about for awhile, now, and, well, since it also concerns you, I thought- well, since we met back up and all-”

“Breathe, Jon,” Martin reminded him. He was a bit worried as to where this was going; Jon was sweating like he was about to confess to murder. Jon took a deep breath.

“I thought I might should wait, but- I’m not terribly good at this whole thing, and so I might as well just- do it, because it seems you- well, you might…” Jon chuckled a bit under his breath, sounding more than a little frantic. “Let’s just- get this over with, shall we?”

“If you’re that worried, you really don’t have- Jon!” Martin yelped. Jon had lifted up his jumper, revealing a thin line of brown skin to show as he tugged it over his head.

“Oh- I have a shirt on underneath, don’t worry,” Jon said from inside the mess of fabric around his head. Martin watched in confusion and mild terror as Jon shimmied out of his jumper. His hair was even more rumpled when he emerged again.

“Martin,” Jon said, his voice much softer than before. “That night, when we first met, you- you touched me, grabbed me right around the arm to keep from falling over. And I remember that touch, and my skin remembers that touch, it felt like an electric shock, like suddenly realizing your eyes were closed all this time and finally opening them, like everything just seemed a little clearer…” Jon cleared his throat, blushing a deep red. Martin couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

“So, you- you felt that? From me?” He stammered. Jon nodded, and, to Martin’s utter bewilderment, grabbed hold of Martin’s hand.

“I know we’ve only just met, but- well, just look.”

Jon pushed up his sleeve and showed Martin the mark on his arm, a pure black handprint wrapped carefully around his upper arm. Shakily, Martin covered the print with his own hand. 

It fit. It was… right. This was right.

Martin had done this.

“Oh my god,” he said faintly. Martin too felt the electric current flowing between them; it had been there the whole time, he realized, he just couldn’t feel it. But now he could, he could feel the buzz beneath Jon’s skin, and the taut string woven between them, pulling them together, holding them close.

Martin blinked, and suddenly Jon was the world.

“Martin?” Jon said softly, worried. Martin just stared at him, mind overflowing with a mix of panic and love, trust and fear, hope and frantic desperation.

“I think we might be soulmates,” Martin breathed, and held Jon’s hand tightly in his, tight enough to hurt, tight enough to never let go. Jon held back.

Bella meowed loudly in Martin’s lap, indignant at being ignored. Martin simply laughed; he was quite certain he would laugh at just about anything at the moment.

“I think she’s jealous,” Martin whispered into Jon’s ear. He laughed, too, then, and Martin thought it might be the best sound he’d ever heard and the best thing he’d ever seen.

Actually, Martin was sure this day was one of the best days of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Amazingly I am still not done, I was gonna post a little fluffy epilogue at the end. 
> 
> Also don’t @ me I had so many ideas to make this longer and better but I just CANT keep adding things bc I’m notoriously bad at finishing things

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hit me up on tumblr @asexualarchivist <3


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